


Replaced

by areyouarealmonster



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: M/M, Tumblr Prompt, it got uhhhhh long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 05:02:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11730051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyouarealmonster/pseuds/areyouarealmonster
Summary: ruthc93asked:ColdAtom + “Do you really think I could ever replace you?”





	Replaced

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ruthc93](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruthc93/gifts).



> [ insert gif of the tenth doctor saying, "it got away from me, yeah" ]

Leonard’s sulking. 

 

Ray isn’t really sure why; being brought back from the dead isn’t something one usually sulks about. Then again, this is Leonard Snart. He’s still a mystery, still just slightly out of reach.

 

No matter that Ray keeps trying, keeps sidling up into Leonard’s space, trying to make a connection. Trying to bring back that feeling he’d had in the beginning, the one where Leonard teased him, poked and prodded at him, the one where Ray actually felt like they could be friends. 

 

He doesn’t feel like that right now. 

 

Not with Leonard ignoring him completely, making excuses to leave the room every time Ray enters it. 

 

“I just don’t understand,” Ray whines to Nate, curled up in one of the big, comfy chairs in the office on the bridge, over  _ Star Wars _ and wine. Well, Nate’s drinking beer. Wine is gluten-free, beer is not. “He won’t even look at me!”

 

“I don’t know why you’re so worried about this, dude. He barely talks to any of us.” Nate, sitting in the chair next to him, takes a swig of beer, and shoves some popcorn in his mouth. “Plus,” he continues, his words muffled by the popcorn, “he’s, like, just cranky in general. A real downer.”

 

“He’s not a downer!” Ray insists. “He’s just…” He trails off, unsure of where to go. Leonard has been different since he’s been back. If he’d been quiet before, he’s near-silent now. Barely any snarky commentary, no teasing at all. Just lurking, at the edges of the room.

 

Ray had missed Leonard’s commentary, Leonard’s teasing, while Leonard was dead. Now that the man is back, and those things are still absent, Ray misses them even more. It’s like a part of Leonard died with the Oculus explosion. Leonard is back, Ray just wishes that it felt more like it. 

 

“See, you can’t even defend him,” Nate says, pointing at Ray with the index finger of the hand that’s wrapped around the beer bottle. 

 

Ray groans in frustration, throwing his head back. “I just wish I knew what was wrong!”

 

“Can’t fix everything, dude,” Nate says, shaking his head. “I know you want to but, like, sometimes you just gotta let things go.”

 

Ray definitely does not let it go.

 

He sits next to Leonard at breakfast the next morning. Leonard stands up, dumps his eggs in the trash, and walks out with his iced coffee in hand. 

 

He leans against the circular console next to Leonard a few hours later. Leonard pushes off from the console and plops down in one of the chairs, spinning idly. 

 

Ray follows Leonard around all day, getting more and more frustrated at Leonard’s brush-offs and clear unwillingness to even share the same air as Ray, let alone talk with him. 

 

“Give it up, man,” Nate tells him, watching Ray’s face fall as Leonard stalks out of the galley once again, food half-eaten and dumped in the recycler. 

 

“Mick, what do I do?” Ray asks desperately, ignoring Nate to plead instead at the man across from him. “What  _ did _ I do?”

 

Mick shrugs. “Dunno. Snart won’t tell me. Hell, he barely talks to  _ me _ . Think he just needs space, maybe you should give it t’him.” 

 

That’s not the answer Ray wanted. That doesn’t give him a plan of action, or any ideas on how to make this better. He  _ has _ to make this better. 

 

He can’t just let this go, because what if Leonard just keeps sinking, just keeps pulling himself away until he disappears entirely? What if Leonard needs help, but doesn’t know how to ask for it? Ray  _ won’t _ let it go, because something is wrong in his home, and he wants to make it right. 

 

He  _ needs _ to make it right.

 

“Leonard—” Ray starts, a few days later, catching Leonard in the library. He almost didn’t see Leonard, curled up in the corner with a pillow and a book.  _ Deathless _ . Ray recognizes the cover, remembers leaving it in the lab, half-finished. 

 

“Don’t,” Leonard says, shortly, not looking up from the book. It’s the most he’s said to Ray since coming back, and it renders Ray temporarily speechless. 

 

Ray has never been good at shutting up, but he thinks he can maybe work with this. “Can I just…” He gestures to the desk. “Can I sit?” 

 

Leonard glances up, not quite meeting Ray’s eyes. His gaze is unfocused, and Ray misses the former sharpness of his glare. Then he looks back down, making a ‘go-ahead’ gesture with his hand. 

 

It’s a win, Ray definitely counts it as a win, and he tries not to smile as he settles down at the desk. He doesn’t actually have any reason to be there, doesn’t actually have anything to do, so he starts organizing the desk. It’s technically Sara’s job to tidy the library this week, but he figures it’s okay if he just sorts through the piles of books and papers and random objects scattered over the desk’s surface.

 

It’s a few minutes before Leonard speaks again. “Do you  _ have _ to make that much noise?” he asks, only a whisper of his former drawl sneaking into his voice. It’s more than was there earlier, and Ray cheers internally. 

 

“Sorry!” he says out loud, trying to look chagrined. He shouldn’t bother, Leonard hasn’t looked up from the page, but he can’t stop himself from making the face. He knows the old Leonard would have been amused by it, would have teased him for it. 

 

Ray has made the mistake of looking up, though. Looking at Leonard. Now that he’s looking, he can’t stop. They haven’t been in the same room together, alone. Not since Leonard died. Not since he came back to life. 

 

Leonard’s hair is grayer, almost white. His face is less severe, his eyes softer. But it’s still the same face Ray remembers. Those piercing eyes, still drawing Ray in, even though they’ve lost their edge. Ray wants the edge back. He misses it. He misses Leonard, even though Leonard is here. Right in front of him. 

 

“Can I help you,  _ Raymond _ ?” Leonard asks, the drawl creeping back into his voice even more. 

 

His...name. Leonard said his name. He said ‘Raymond,’ the way he used to. Ray, once again, is struck speechless. 

 

Leonard’s eyes flick up after a few moments of silence. He still doesn’t quite meet Ray’s eyes; his gaze is focused somewhere around Ray’s right ear. “ _ What _ ?” he asks, teeth gritted like the word pains him to say. 

 

“Uh, sorry,” Ray apologizes again. “Just, it’s just that you haven’t really spoken to me since you, uh, got back.” 

 

Leonard shrugs, making a noncommittal noise, and drops his eyes back down to his book. But Ray isn’t going to let it go that easily. 

 

“Why won’t you talk to me?” he asks. Leonard blinks. Ray’s natural instinct is to ramble, but he can sense that Leonard is getting ready to bolt, so he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from rambling. 

 

The silence drags on, and Ray can’t help but fidget, his leg bouncing up and down, his fingers tapping on the shiny wood surface of the desk. He watches Leonard, who is still staring down at the page, but with his eyes unmoving so Ray can tell he isn’t actively reading. 

 

Finally, Leonard lets out a sigh, picks up his bookmark from where it’s lying on the ground, and closes the book over it. He drops the book down next to him and brings his knees up to his chest, curling his arms around them. 

 

“Don’t feel much like talking, lately.” Leonard’s voice is soft, and Ray finds himself leaning forward to hear it better. 

 

“Why not?” Ray asks, his voice just as quiet, as if Leonard  _ will _ bolt if Ray speaks too loudly, moves too quickly. 

 

Leonard shrugs, and silence falls again. Ray lets it settle for a bit, worming its way under his skin and making him itch. He’s never been good with silence, but Leonard hasn’t moved, hasn’t stalked away, hasn’t shut him down, so he’ll just have to suck it up. 

 

“Don’t think you need me around anymore. Don’t see what purpose I serve, being here.” Leonard’s voice is even quieter than before, and Ray leans so far forward to hear his words that he forgets about the edge of the chair, and falls, landing with an, “Oof,” on his ass. 

 

He’s behind the desk, so he doesn’t hear at first, but he starts to hear a soft noise as he picks himself up off the ground, chagrined. When he stands up fully, he sees that Leonard’s face is buried in his knees, his shoulders shaking. He’s  _ laughing _ . 

 

Ray got him to  _ laugh _ . Okay, maybe not his most graceful moment, and maybe it kind of ruined the serious conversation they were—Ray was—trying to have, but it got Leonard to  _ laugh _ . Ray smiles as Leonard lifts his head up, a small smile on his face, to meet Ray’s eyes. 

 

The second he does, he sobers up, and Ray watches the light go out of his eyes again. Ray’s heart falls, and his smiles falls off his face with it. 

 

“We missed you, Leonard,” Ray offers. 

 

Leonard snorts but doesn’t look away. “Did you? All of you?”

 

“Yes,” Ray insists. Of course they all missed him, of course—

 

“Because it looks like you all were fine without me. It looks like—I mean, Stein was probably glad to see me go. Rip isn’t even here, and he clearly didn’t care. Jax...Jax was fine without me. Barely shed a tear, probably. Sara...well, wasn’t a big loss for her. That leaves Mick, and—” Leonard averts his eyes— “you.”

 

“Leonard, we—”

 

“The world went on without me, Raymond,” Leonard says, cutting him off. “You replaced me with these, these new kids. You gave away my room. I mean, I was dead, I don’t  _ blame you _ . But you moved on, and I feel a little left behind.”

 

“I know the feeling,” Ray says, walking slowly over to Leonard and sliding down the wall so they’re sitting side by side. “But, Leonard, do you really think we could ever replace you?”

 

“Yes,” Leonard says, without hesitation. 

 

This isn’t working, so Ray changes tactics. At this point, he’s got nothing to lose. “Do you really think  _ I _ could ever replace you?”

 

Leonard turns his head to look at Ray. “What do you mean?” he asks. “It’s not like we were really ever... _ anything _ to each other.”

 

Ray nods and leans his head back against the wall. “No, I know. We weren’t. Doesn’t mean losing you didn’t hurt. Doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you. Sure doesn’t mean that the, uh,  _ new kids _ fill a hole that you left. The hole was still there, and I didn’t realize why until you...came back.”

 

“What hole?” Leonard asks, and Ray can feel his gaze sharpen. He lifts his head off the wall and meets Leonard’s gaze and, ah, there’s the intensity. He’s missed it. 

 

“A hole of missed opportunities,” Ray says tentatively. Leonard seems settled in, but Ray doesn’t want to do anything that messes with this tenuous truce they’re sitting in. “What-ifs and maybes and...and did we just miss each other? Was it the wrong time?”

 

“Raymond,  _ what _ are you talking about?” Leonard asks, but his words are softened by the look in his eyes: shining, hopeful. 

 

“Maybe it was,” Ray continues. He’s on a roll, and he knows his words are getting away from him, but everything he’s been wanting to say, everything he’s been keeping locked up and stored away and pushed aside as impossible and something he shouldn’t even want anyway, it all pours out. “Maybe it was the wrong time, maybe I got my signals crossed, maybe we could have been  _ something _ to each other. Maybe if I’d paid a little more attention, maybe if you’d been a little more clear—”

 

“ _ Raymond _ ,” Leonard snarls, sounding like  _ himself _ . Sounding like he used to. 

 

“Right, yeah,” Ray says. “Maybe I should just—” He leans forward, closing the scant distance between their faces, pressing his lips against Leonard’s. Quick, light, warm. He pulls back, his heart fluttering and his stomach churning, to gauge Leonard’s reaction. 

 

Leonard blinks once, twice, three times. He licks his lips, leaving them slightly parted. Ray wants to lean back in and kiss Leonard again, but he holds off. He made his intentions clear, it’s up to Leonard to accept or reject his advances. 

 

“Oh,” Leonard says. “You…” He trails off, but his eyes are still shining with that  _ hope _ . 

 

Ray smiles, a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah, Leonard.”

 

“Huh.” Leonard cocks his head, considering. “Okay.” He reaches up, cups Ray’s cheek in his hand, and draws Ray back in for another kiss. 


End file.
